137 Hartford Street
Wednesday, April 14, 1954
A little later
Nick parked the car in their small driveway and then, without waiting, jumped out, slammed the door closed, and bounded up the front steps. He had to. His trousers were showing evidence of all the things Carter had been doing with his hand while they'd been driving home.
Once they were both inside, Carter got things rolling by removing Nick's clothes, one piece at a time, starting with his tie.
Nick, for his part, fumbled with Carter's trousers. He wanted to unbutton the fly for ease of access, but Carter's stronger and more aggressive hands and arms kept getting in the way. Finally, Nick said, "Let me in, Chief!"
"You'll have your turn later, Boss," replied Carter in a husky voice.
By the time they were both down to not much more than their garters and socks, Nick suddenly realized they were standing in the living room with all the curtains wide open. Pulling away from Carter's tongue and embracing arms, Nick breathlessly said, "We need to go upstairs."
Carter slapped him on the rear, hard. "You're right about that, son."
As he pushed Nick up the stairs (in between more slaps on the rear, hard), the phone started to ring.
"Forget it," said Nick, more to himself than to Carter.
"Yep," replied his husband.
At the top of the stairs, Carter picked Nick up bodily and then carried him into their bedroom. The phone kept ringing. Unable to focus on much of anything other than Carter and his hands and his lips, Nick lost count at twelve rings.
. . .
Carter was in the middle of fully having his way with Nick when the sound of someone knocking furiously on the front door drifted up the stairs.
Looking down at his husband, Carter heard Nick whisper, "No one's home."
As a drop of sweat fell from his chin and hit Nick on his hairy belly, Carter grunted, "Damn right."
Keeping on with what he was doing, Carter could feel that warm wave that meant he was just about to finish the job.
Whoever was at the door, however, was being both insistent and persistent, and to be honest, it was making Carter mad.
In the midst of the banging, Nick said, "Maybe we—"
"No!" barked Carter. And that was all it took for him to be done.
. . .
Marnie Wilson was steaming. She knew they were inside. She could see clothes scattered everywhere around the living room. And the Buick was parked in front of the house. It was at a weird angle, so Marnie knew they'd been in a hurry.
At the office, when Nick and Carter began to act all strange, as if one or both of them might explode, Marnie knew well enough to just let them alone and, if possible, to go home. Or, at least, to go for a walk up and down Bush Street until they'd had time to do... whatever it was that they did do.
Banging on the door as hard as she could, Marnie tried not to think too much about what was going on upstairs. It was a weird feeling. Like thinking about your parents doing the same sort of thing. She made a face and caught a glimpse of herself doing so in the door's window.
The truth was that she needed their help, and she needed it fast. Her mother and Nick's father had to get married. And it was looking more and more likely that such a thing just might not happen.
As much as Marnie loved her mother, she needed the woman to move on and, to be frank, to move out. The two had been sharing either an apartment or a house for too many years and Marnie had had just about enough.
With her impending nuptials at Grace Cathedral, Marnie's mother had been getting worse and worse. She was bossy, picky, and, to be blunt, a pain in Marnie's backside.
Every meal they ate together was too hot or too cold or too salty or not salty enough. Every dress they looked at (and they'd been to just about every store in San Francisco and Oakland) have been too frilly or too plain or too fussy or too elaborate or too... Too much Mother!
Marnie was just about to give up when she saw Carter walking down the stairs. His hair was sticking up in every direction like it did after he'd been to the gymnasium and not had a shower. She figured he would smell just like he did on those occasions. It was a musky smell that Marnie really didn't care for, to be honest.
She also noticed that he was wearing his shirt open over his undershirt. It wasn't tucked in. And he was barefoot. Marnie hated sloppy dress, particularly when it came to men. She hated it.
With half a mind to just leave before Carter could get to the door, Marnie decided to grit her teeth and bear it. She could put up with his sloppy clothes and his musky smell if it meant the two of them would help her deal with the disaster that was unfolding two blocks over at her house on Collingwood.
. . .
"Hi, Marnie," said Carter in a voice that was less than friendly.
Nick's secretary looked up at him with what he thought was probably a little bit of disdain at how sloppily he was dressed. But he was in no mood to deal with that. A man deserved a certain bit of privacy in his own house, after all.
"Hi, Carter. Are you busy?"
He tried not to roll his eyes. Instead, he stepped aside, so she could walk in. Closing the door behind her, he asked, "Was that you on the phone, earlier?"
"Yeah," she said.
Stepping around her, Carter began to gather up all the clothes he and Nick had left behind. As he scooped up Nick's shoes, he asked, "How can I help you?"
"Is Nick here?"
"He's upstairs." Truth be told, Nick was cleaning up. He had more to clean up than Carter did, so they'd agreed Carter would answer the door. "But he should be down in a minute. What goes on?"
Marnie sighed and then wandered over to the sofa and plopped down. She was still wearing her coat and hat and looked irritated.
Carter put all the clothes and shoes on the next-to-the-bottom step of the stairs and then walked over to the big armchair next to the sofa. He sat down and leaned forward a little. His earlier frustration with her was melting.
After another big sigh, Marnie said, "Mother and Nick's father are still here in town."
"What?" asked Carter.
Nodding, Marnie whined a little as she said, "They had reservations and everything. They were supposed to be getting married at the Western Stars Wedding Chapel on Fremont Street in downtown Las Vegas." She fidgeted a little. "But, tonight, when I got home after work, I found Mother lying on her bed. She was still wearing her traveling suit that I'd laid out for her this morning before I left." Sticking her shaky hands into her coat pockets, she added, "They have to get married, Carter. I don't think I can take another day of living with Mother."
Carter felt himself break into a grin in spite of the dire circumstances. He reached over and patted Marnie's knee. "Don't worry. We all agree that it's important for this marriage to happen. We'll figure out something."
. . .
As he stepped out of the bedroom and began to walk down the stairs, Nick asked, "We'll figure out what?"
Marnie, who was sitting on the sofa, suddenly bounced up and ran across the room towards the foot of the stairs. Looking up at him, and with tears streaming down her face, she wailed, "Oh, Nick! Mother's still here and she won't tell me what's happened and they just have to get married!"
Stepping over the pile of clothes on the next-to-last step, Nick took Marnie in his arms and said, "Don't worry, doll. Just like Carter said, we'll figure out something." Feeling a rising determination, he added, "We'll do whatever we have to do to make this wedding happen." He looked over at Carter who was grinning at him to beat the band.
. . .
Nick poured some coffee into Marnie's cup. The three were sitting around the kitchen table. To Carter's eyes, Marnie was still looking glum, but she didn't seem to be quite as desperate as she had been earlier.
Nick sat down next to Carter and looked across the table at his future stepsister. "Tell us what you know and let's see what we can do."
Marnie nodded and sighed again. "Well, when I got home—" She stopped. "Lemme start a little earlier. When I left for work this morning, Mother was in her bath and singing to herself."
Carter and Nick both chuckled at that.
A small smile began to form on Marnie's face. "She was singing that song from South Pacific."
"'Some Enchanted Evening'?" asked Carter, remembering the glorious trip he and Nick had taken to New York back in 1949 to see the musical on Broadway.
"No..." said Marnie with a slight frown.
"'Happy Talk'?" asked Nick.
"I don't think so."
"'Cockeyed Optimist'?" offered Carter.
Marnie shook her head. "That's not it."
"I hope it wasn't 'I'm Gonna Wash That Man Right Outta My Hair'!" exclaimed Nick with a look of concern on his face.
"Or 'Bloody Mary'," said Carter with a grin.
Nick grinned back. "How about 'There Is Nothin' Like a Dame'?"
Carter looked at Marnie. "Does she have the vocal range to sing 'Bali Hai'?"
Marnie rolled her eyes at him as Nick asked, "Could it have been 'This Nearly Was Mine'? I hope it wasn't."
"Definitely not. She was happy."
Carter laughed. "Well, of course. It has to be 'Wonderful Guy'"
Marnie snapped her fingers and nodded enthusiastically. "That was it!"
"Well," said Nick, "we only had two others left—"
"So," interrupted Carter, "she was singing about how she was going to marry a wonderful guy while taking her bath this morning..." He was hoping to prompt Marnie to carry on with her story. He was more than curious to know all the details.
"Yes," replied Marnie. "And she sounded happy. I told her I'd laid out her suit for the plane ride and reminded her to check on some personal..." She blushed suddenly. "Well, I reminded her about something she'd asked me to remind her to put in her suitcase." Marnie cleared her throat and took a sip of coffee. "Anyway, she said she'd call from Las Vegas after they were married, and I told her I loved her and that was it."
Carter nodded. "And she didn't call during the day?"
"No," said Marnie. "In fact,—" She was interrupted by a knocking on the front door.
Carter got to his feet as Nick said, "It's getting to be like Grand Central Station around here."
. . .
Parnell Williams was a man who liked for things to go smoothly. Since that rarely happened, he tried to make sure he was apprised of how things were running so he might make any needed changes along the way. That was how he guided his affairs, both personal and professional.
As he stepped out of the taxicab which had brought him over to Eureka Valley and paid the cabman the displayed fare, along with a reasonable tip, he squared his shoulders with a renewed determination to fix the problem at hand.
He didn't like it when things went wrong. He didn't like it when someone promised one thing and then did quite the opposite.
He also didn't like to be stood up.
It reminded him of a most unfortunate early evening back in the summer of 1910 when a girl he'd been quite drawn to had rebuffed his affection and had done so in a very public manner. They were strolling along Geary, on their way to take in an evening's entertainment at the Columbia, and she encountered a fellow whom she'd known through a family connection.
One moment they were strolling, arm in arm, happily speaking of the day and their enthusiasm for the upcoming evening's performance (William Collier in A Lucky Star, fresh from New York) and, in the next, his companion was speaking at length with the family friend. After 40 years and more, Parnell could no longer remember the name of either, but he was quite certain the two had been married the next summer. Unfortunately, Parnell read about the husband (who'd, from all accounts, been rather disposed to sickness during childhood) and his terminal bout with the Spanish influenza in 1918. What became of the wife, he had no recollection. But the memory of that summer evening still rankled.
Making his way up the rather ramshackle wooden stairs of his son's minuscule abode, Parnell rapped smartly on the front door. He discerned a light on in the kitchen, which was good news. He hoped everyone within was fully clothed, for goodness sake.
As the man-mountain that was Carter Jones made his way through the sitting room with that ridiculous grin on his face, Parnell had to admit he felt a more-than-passing fondness for the boy. Thinking of him affectionately as the son he never had (no need to speak of such things to anyone else, of course), Parnell felt assured that his journey by taxicab to the far edges of civilization was not in vain.
In fact, he felt a glimmer of hope rise up in his heart as the door opened and the silly boy, in a most uneducated accent which belied his deep intelligence (again, no need to speak of such things), said, "Good evening, Dr. Williams."
. . .
Nick groaned on the inside when he heard his father say, "Good evening, Carter."
Marnie, who knew him almost as well as Carter did, gave him a small smile and then whispered, "Maybe he's here to ask for your help, too."
Nodding, Nick stood up and turned so he could greet the man who'd more-or-less raised him and who, until the previous Christmas, had been one of his least favorite people. Their long estrangement was beginning to mend, but Nick wasn't completely convinced his old man was any better than he'd ever been. Only Carter and Mrs. Wilson seemed to have much faith in that idea.
His father walked past the phone alcove and into the kitchen. He wasn't smiling, but he wasn't frowning, either, as he offered his hand.
Nick shook. "How are you, Father?"
"I've been better, Nicholas." He looked over at Marnie who was standing. "No, my dear, don't get up." He looked back at Nick. "If I'm not intruding, may I join you for a cup of coffee?"
"How about whiskey?" asked Carter who was standing behind the old man.
Nick quickly offered, "I could make you an Irish coffee, if you'd like."
My father put his hand on Nick's arm. "No, but thank you, both. Coffee, black, will be just fine." He began to take off his overcoat.
Carter said, "Let me help you with that, Dr. Williams," as Nick walked around the table to grab a mug and pour his old man a cup of joe.
. . .
Marnie couldn't help but be amused as she watched Nick and Carter stumble over themselves to take care of a man they both had once said they didn't like.
True, he'd been quite a handful in the old days, before poor Janet, Nick's only sister, passed away. But that tragic event had seemed to change something in the man. And then, when her own mother began to invite him to call on her, the change became even more obvious.
Marnie was glad he was there, with the three of them, in Nick's modern kitchen. It was nice to know that he was as upset as she was about her mother. Well... maybe that wasn't the right way to think about it, but that was probably the reason he'd taken the time to come all the way to Eureka Valley from Nob Hill to see them.
As far as she knew, he rarely dropped by Nick's house unannounced, even on the evenings when he was returning her mother to their house only two blocks away. It would probably take some time for Nick and his father to really heal the wounds of the past. But, based on the man's face and the hint of a smile around the edges of his mouth on his perfectly shaved face, she thought that might be happening sooner, rather than later. (Her mother once told her that Dr. Williams shaved twice daily—it definitely showed—he was more handsome in his 60s than she thought would be possible for any other man.)
. . .
Carter was the last to take his seat at the table. He looked at Nick, expecting him to take charge of the conversation, and wasn't disappointed.
"So, Father, I'm guessing you're here for the same reason as Marnie."
Dr. Williams nodded over his mug of coffee. "I believe so, Nicholas."
Leaning forward, Marnie said, "I couldn't believe it when I saw that Mother was still here when I got home from work."
"Yes, my dear. I'm afraid she changed her mind, again, and it was midway to Las Vegas, in fact."
"What?" asked Carter. His immediate mental image was of Mrs. Wilson opening the door of the plane and jumping out with a parachute strapped to her back. The truth was that it was something she was entirely capable of doing. The thought made him smile.
Dr. Williams grinned a little at Carter before turning his attention back to his mug of coffee. "She started to get a little upset and then apologetically asked if we couldn't have a church wedding instead. I told her that was fine and, as soon as we landed, I made arrangements to fly back here on the very same plane." He sighed a little and took a sip. "By the time we landed here, she was distraught." He glanced over at Marnie. "Embarrassed would likely be the best description."
Marnie quietly asked, "So, you two are still planning on getting married?"
"Yes," replied Dr. Williams. "I've asked Zelda to contact the church and the club about, using their facilities as we'd originally intended." He sat up and seemed to brighten a little. "If anyone can make such a thing happen, she certainly can."
Carter looked at his coffee in an effort to hide his reaction. Zelda had been working for Dr. Williams since before Nick's mother had died. Nick and his father both believed the woman to be nothing less than a miracle worker, but Carter wasn't so sure. He'd long been suspicious that Zelda was in love with Dr. Williams and wanted nothing more than to be Nick's stepmother. Last summer, in fact, Nick had privately suggested to Carter that Zelda should marry his father. Nick's affection for the housekeeper was obvious. Carter couldn't shake the idea, however, that it was misplaced and not deserved. There was something about the woman he didn't like.
Dr. Williams continued, "Of course, the ceremony will only be close family and friends and not the large number of guests we'd originally invited."
Marnie gasped and put her coffee mug down on the table with a bang. "Oh my God!" She covered her mouth and looked around the room in a panic.
"What is it, doll?" asked Nick.
"The invitations!" said Marnie as she stood up and walked over to the sink. After drinking a glass of water, she took a deep breath and, in a stricken voice, added, "I forgot to send out a note about the change in plans."
"What?" asked Nick.
"My goodness, Marnie," was all that Dr. Williams could say.
Turning around and leaning against the sink, Marnie (who was visibly shaken) said, "I'll go home right now and call each and every person on the list. This is my fault. I said I would send out notes to everyone when Mother first changed her mind and I didn't. I'm so sorry."
"Let's don't be hasty," said Dr. Williams. "Zelda has likely put all the arrangements back into place and this might very well be all for the best." He stood and walked over to where Marnie was standing. Taking one of her hands in his, he said, "Dear girl, you might just have saved the day for both me and for your mother."
Marnie wiped away a tear and kissed Nick's father on the cheek. "I hope so."
He nodded encouragingly. "I know so."